The Quiver 12/1899
THE HEIRLOOM
From the Drawing by M. L. Gow, R.I.
A DAY IN DAMASCUS.
I t was only just over a fortnight since we left England—according to the calendar, that is to say; but that way of reckoning time seems to me as misleading as the common method of £ s. d. in computing alms. Two days' weary railway travel to Marseilles after crossing the Channel, two days of smooth sailing to the Straits of Messina, then two of tossing "in Adria," till we ran under the lee of Crete; one spent in plunging along its southern shores, followed by a bright, warm day which brought us to the coast of Egypt (only to learn that if we entered the longed-for haven of Alexandria we should be subject to five days' quarantine at our next port); a tiresome day's run across this most choppy corner of the Mediterranean to Jaffa, and a landing there through the surf on a glorious morning, which made up for everything, and plunged us straight into the midst of Eastern life, with all its warmth of colouring to eye and ear; three hours' run by rail to Jerusalem, and five days there and thereabouts, almost bewildering us with a constant succession of scenes half-novel and half-familiar; another railway journey back to Jaffa, a pleasant run along the coast of Palestine to Beirut, and a day spent there. All this lay between England and Beirut as we finished an early breakfast on a February morning, and drove to the railway station through the busy streets of Beirut, full of picturesque life, and yet much more European than those of other Syrian towns. Our driver stopped on the way, somewhat to our amusement, to light his cigarette from a friend's!
